


Mission: Storybrooke

by Of_Princes_and_Savages



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/pseuds/Of_Princes_and_Savages
Summary: The Avengers have never heard of Storybrooke, Maine. In fact, they can barely find anything to prove Storybrooke exists. But it must, because that's where Queen Elsa said that the Dark One lives now, and that he must have taken one of the keys to a powerful Asgardian weapon. That's normal, right?





	Mission: Storybrooke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishtarelisheba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishtarelisheba/gifts).



> I have no idea what this is, but I've got three follow-up ficlets to it planned for a later date, see end for deets. But hurray! I finished my third RCIJ intact! Merry Rumbelle-Christmas to all!

Storybrooke was going through a calm spell, and Rumpelstiltskin was taking advantage of that to take inventory of the shop. Belle generally kept the library closed on Sundays, and was trying to help him sort through things. She'd been forbidden from climbing up the ladder, for obvious reasons, (it was romantic how she'd fallen off the ladder in the Dark Castle into his arms, but also terrifying because she would've broken her neck otherwise,) and was currently on her knees unpacking a very large trunk stuffed full of magical books and grimoires.

"What's the difference again?" Belle asked, sitting back on the heels of her feet, wearing flatter shoes than normal as a concession towards practicality. "Grimoires are books about magic, aren't they?"

"Yes. Books about magic may be considered grimoires, but not all grimoires are magical books themselves. Enchanted, that is." He picked up a dark blue book with silver inlays and opened it, to show how the illustration of a dragon flew around in the inked-in sky on the page. "This book is enchanted to show live depictions of magical creatures, for example, but is not a grimoire."

He shut it and sent Belle a look saying "don't start reading" and she stuck her tongue out at him as she set the blue book aside, clearly understanding and unimpressed by that look. So in short, everything was normal in Storybrooke.

Until about a quarter past noon, at least.

* * *

**Avengers Tower: Saturday, approximately 1700 hours**

Steve liked Thor. He was a good man, and since they were both a little fuzzy about the modern world, they tended to bond over things their teammates took for granted. Like trying to turn on the high definition TV at Avengers Tower, or decrypting texting jargon. (They still weren't sure what "idk" stood for, Thor kept meaning to ask his lady-friend's assistant, Darcy, to give him a translation.) Thor also tended to approach new people that weren't actively trying to kill him as potential friends or "brothers in arms" so he barely gave Bucky a second glance.

(Bucky on the other hand gave Thor _several_ glances, even after establishing he wasn't an active threat, because Asgardians had that effect on people.)

However...Asgard still wasn't Brooklyn, which meant sometimes even Steve couldn't get the god of thunder's drift.

"Run that by me again?"

Thor had been summoned to Asgard the day before. He returned towards the end of the baseball game Steve was watching with Bucky. He didn't show up often, (Steve and Tony had an unspoken arrangement that it was fine as long as Bucky and Tony Stark were never in the tower at the same time,) partly because he was slow to trust the other Avengers, and partly because he was still ducking leftover HYDRA cells. Natasha was the only other Avenger in the tower at the moment, everyone else enjoying some time off or out on missions respectively, and so it was just the three of them that Thor had gathered together to explain his summons.

"A key to Lævateinn has been stolen." Thor announced, his tone telling Steve that was a bad thing even though he wasn't sure what a lava...lava... _that_ , was. "The nine keys to the locks of Lævateinn's chest were scattered across the realms milennia ago, it is an Asgardian weapon of great power. It has been locked and guarded for all of that time." Yes. That was bad. Thor pulled a face, then, twisting the handle of his hammer awkwardly. "The leaders of the nine realms were tasked with hiding them, Odin left the key in his charge with the founding family of Arendelle. I could not find the key there, however. I was told by Queen Elsa-"

"Wait," Natasha held up a hand. "Arendelle? Queen Elsa...and Anna?"

Thor tilted his head to the side. "Oh. You know of this kingdom? I only met with the Queen, though she did mention a sister-"

"Thor, are you serious? Those are characters from a Disney princess movie. You're telling us that Arendelle is real and they were hiding a magic key given to them by a Norse god?"

"That is what I said, yes." Thor nodded. "Unfortunately they had no knowledge of the key. A century ago it was given to a wizard in exchange for curing a plague that had stricken the kingdom, he's had the key since."

Steve wasn't exactly sure what movie Queen Elsa was from, (the only Disney princess movie in his day was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, he was still catching up in that genre,) but still, he was pretty sure he agreed with that look on Natasha's face. Like this was so far out of their jurisdiction even _she_ wasn't prepared for it. Thor seemed to take the stunned silence as permission to go on, because that's just what he did, carrying on as if this were basic stuff.

"Naturally I tried to find this wizard-"

"Naturally?" Steve repeated. Had his world gone so pear-shaped that wizards and movie characters in real life were natural?

"But there were further complications-"

" _More_ complicated? More complicated how?"

"A curse had struck the realm thirty years ago, the land of Misthaven has but a handful of sovereigns and their people left attempting to rebuild after the latest Ogre War, but the wizard was swept away in the curse. Queen Elsa said the residents of Misthaven now live here in Midgard, but it is shielded from the eyes of mortals. I asked Heimdall to send me there, but even he cannot see it. I require assistance to locate this Storybrooke Maine, so that I may get the key back from the Dark One." Thor paused a moment. "The Dark One is the wizard, or rather a curse that transmits from host to host-"

Natasha held up one hand, the other pressing against her temple as if warding off a headache. "Stop right there. Storybrooke I can find, wizards are on you. I'll go check the database now."

She turned and walked out the living room, then, and Thor set the hammer down on the nearest coffee table. He sat down on the sofa beside Steve, then, and helped himself to a handful of salted pretzels in a bowl that Steve had been snacking on during the game.

"How goes the games?" he asked, gesturing towards the forgotten TV screen, the crowd going wild as a player hit a home run. "Are things going well for your chosen side?"

* * *

**The Bifrost Bridge: Sunday, 1155 hours**

Heimdall didn't need to be all-seeing to know Storybrooke was going to be a very odd place. For one thing, he couldn't _see_ it, and there were very few places in the cosmos he couldn't see.

He'd arranged to place Thor and his three companions in the center of the blurry place along Maine's coast that Natasha Romanoff insisted was where Storybrooke should be, which should give them a good start.

He'd also asked Thor to tell him how it went. It wasn't often Heimdall got to hear stories he hadn't seen before...

* * *

**Storybrooke: Sunday, 1156 hours**

The only dirt Natasha had dug up on Storybrooke, Maine was that it was poorly documented. The first document at all to mention it was paperwork submitted to Boston Angels Adoption by Regina Mills, a woman in her mid to late thirties at the time, with good references. Perfect even. Flawless. It was immediately suspicious.

And Natasha had a handgun and three knives and ammo for the gun _and_ a cannister of mace, tucked into various pockets and places of a nondescript civilian outfit, as she invited herself along.

Storybrooke resembled a sleepy New England America scene: They had a diner on a two-lane main street, tiny shops, a charming clocktower, the few cars in sight were all parked, and the air smelled like the sea. That Heimdall, who was a nearly infallible watchman, had never seen the place had Natasha looking at everything with a cautious eye, though. Even the umbrella a redheaded man walking a dalmatian was carrying.

That man had stammered while asking what they were doing here, glancing at the Asgardian symbol burned into the blacktop. Thor, explaining things in a very Thor way, announced: "I am Thor, son of Odin. My companions and I seek the Dark One, has he come to this land?"

The dogwalker gave them directions to the sherrif's station, and called ahead to be sure the sheriff was in.

("Emma? Oh, hello David. No, no,-Ah, listen...there's an Asgardian...and company, in front of me. They're looking for the Dark One, and I'm sending them your way, alright? Yeah. Okay, good luck. Goodbye.")

Hardly anyone was out and about this time of day, apparently. The sheriff's office was easy to find, and inside was a blonde man, clean-cut and neatly dressed enough to have been Steve Rogers' cousin, and a woman in her late twenties with blonde hair, green eyes, and a leather jacket with a white dust sprinkled on it and her shirt front. Neither wore a uniform, but did have badges. A pink box sat on the desk, powdered sugar-covered jelly donuts inside, the source of the dust on the officer's red jacket.

The woman's eyes widened a little at the scene they-probably they being _mostly Thor_ , as he had his red-caped Asgardian clothes on,-made. She eventually introduced herself as Emma Swan, (Natasha recognized her name from the handful of other documents she'd found on Storybrooke, she was the only documented new resident to transfer her life to this town in ever, all the more odd that she would be the sheriff, really,) who Thor remembered then as being mentioned during his stop in Arendelle: "You're the Savior, the friend to Queen Elsa."

"Uh...yeah. You know Elsa?" she asked slowly, like she wasn't sure what to do with any answer she'd be given.

"I was told by Her Majesty that the Dark One was in possession of the key to Lvateinn..." Thor nodded, squinting his blue eyes at the other officer, the male one. "Have we met as well, somewhere?"

"I think I'd remember meeting an Asgardian," he said, holding out his hand in an earnest, honest fashion. "I'm David, some people back home knew me as Prince James though, does that name ring a bell?"

Thor looked doubtful, but let it go for the moment and explained the thing about Lævateinn to the officers and their search for this Dark One wizard. Natasha had a few brushes with villains that weren't HYDRA, rogue mercenaries, meglomaniac capitalists, or mad scientists, which almost always fell into the category of magic and aliens. She wasn't sure what oddness this town was built on, but when a swirl of purple smoke cleared to reveal a brunette woman with a cross look on her face, she was leaning towards magic.

Maybe she should have packed another knife.

* * *

**Storybrooke: Sunday, 1215 hours**

Okay, so: An Asgardian god, a redhead, a guy who could have been the buffer, movie-star gorgeous version of David Nolan, and a very quiet man with dark hair tucked beneath a ball cap and layers of clothes walk into the sheriff station, and tell them about a key to a superweapon that, of course, Gold had.

Emma wishes she could be more surprised, honestly.

At this point she's just mildly stunned Norse gods were real and no one thought to bring that up before. Oh, and Elsa basically referred _a god_ to her? Sure. Sure.

So it was going to be a WTF sort of day, obviously.

Regina was a bit miffed that they broke through the protection spell around town, and went off to go check that no one else could get in or out. Specifically whoever was stealing these lava-thins keys or whatever. Unless they had the backing of yet another god, they should be good. Which meant with Emma's luck a god would be tearing through the barrier in half an hour, probably Osiris at this rate. Wait. No. Who was the god of bad stuff in Egypt again? Bah. Doesn't matter. Half an hour they'd probably meet them anyway if Regina couldn't guarantee the barrier was secure.

(Before she left, she'd squinted at the man with the cap shading his eyes in the same way Thor had squinted at David, but didn't ask if they'd met. As a rule: Regina didn't want to remind people she was The Evil Queen, lest they come at her with sharp things and curses-the verbal and the magical.)

Full introductions were made, then. Emma and David and Regina, Thor (son of Odin,) and Steve Rogers and Agent Natasha Romanoff, (that would be the redhead who had steely eyes like she could kill you without leaving a visible mark,) and...Bucky?

Baseball Cap Guy did not look like a _Bucky_ , but that's what Steve had introduced him as and _Bucky_ didn't correct him, so that was that.

A WTF day indeed...

* * *

**Storybrooke: Sunday, 1231 hours**

Belle had brought lunch from home in a picnic basket, but it had been unpacked into the fridge. She was against careless, casual magic usage, but didn't object to the warming of their ham and cheese sandwiches so that the cheddar turned gooey and melty.

She sat on her husband's lap and cuddled up to him, as there was only one chair in the back of the shop. Now, to be fair, there was that ugly green armchair, but it was filled up with books and inventory so that they'd have to clean it out, first, and that seemed like a bother when she could use her husband as a perch and feed him strawberries when they were done with the sandwiches.

Rumple kissed her fingers, just the tip of his tongue flickering over a juice-stained tip, and Belle giggled. "Why Mr. Gold, we're _supposed_ to be taking inventory of your shop."

"Why, Mrs. Gold," he purred, nuzzling behind her ear. "We've an hour break for...lunch."

The marvelous benefits of being married to the shop owner...

However, the little bell above the shop door jangled rudle and a number of feet trodded inside. It would seem _lunch_ was ruined, and Belle held in the sigh her husband could not about it.

She was up and out from behind the curtain a moment or three before Rumple, and stopped short so suddenly her bumped into her from behind.

Emma was standing at the front counter, tapping her fingers on the display case in that fidgety way she had when she was wading in out of her depths into something. Behind her was a tall, muscular man with long blonde hair and a red cape, carrying a hammer. The other two men weren't as tall, but quite strong-looking all the same, one a clean-cut blonde man, and the other was wearing layers of sturdy clothes and a baseball cap shading his eyes. There was a woman glancing around the walls, her hair gingery-red and her eyes steel-sharp.

And they were all strangers.

"Good afternoon Miss Swan," Rumple sighed, walking up to the counter across from her, giving the foursome the slightest of glances. "What trouble have you brought to my doorstep today?"

The man in the red cape looked Rumple up and down, his face scrunched up. "You're the Dark One?"

Rumple gave him a slightly longer glance at that. "Aye. What of it? Have you come for revenge against some past slight I should know about?"

Belle rolled her eyes, stepping up to the counter and putting a hand on her husband's back. "How can we help you, Emma?"

She wasn't even surprised at the quick looks of _what is she doing standing so close to that man?_ that crossed most of their faces, even for a passing second. That was part and parcel of being Mrs. Gold.

Emma had already crossed that bridge, for example, and pressed on ahead: "This is...Thor," -she indicated the man with the hammer, ah, that made sense,- "and he's looking for something you got out of a deal in Arendelle? Like a long time ago?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that, dearie. I have a long memory, but it's not perfect."

"A key?" the blonde man, the not-Thor one, offered. "You traded it for the cure to a plague?"

Rumple inclined his head, pursing his lips. "Treasure seekers, are we? Never took the god of thunder for the sort. Your brother, yes, you? No."

"I seek no treasure, Dark One," Thor said grimly. "I seek to protect Lævateinn from falling into the wrong hands."

Belle had found, respectively, a box _and_ a jar full of keys earlier in the day. Her husband was a bit of a magpie when it came to his relics, even if some of them were traded for this and that over the years. "What does the key look like? We've been doing inventory of the shop all day, I've come across a few keys so far."

What Thor described was hardly a key, at least to Belle, and she honestly had to reply she hadn't seen it. A six-inch rod of unrusting enchanted iron, with a square end and runes along the key's blade. Emma made a half-hearted offer to look for it in the back, but Rumple looked like he'd been considering something for some time and said: "That won't be necessary, Miss Swan. Belle, would you come with me for a moment? I believe I have something more to their liking."

Belle loved Rumple deeply. Truly. But sometimes his theatrics did grate on the nerves. She followed him into the back and put her hands on her hips, doing her best to look stern when she was almost a head shorter than him without her sky-high heels on.

"Rumple. What are you doing?"

He poked through the umbrella stand full of swords he kept in the back, (a teenager nearly broke the jewelry case playing with it in the front, so swords now had to be asked to look at by an adult over the age of 18,) humming disatisfactorily.

"Have you seen a sword with a wooden handle about? I thought I'd set one aside earlier..."

Belle picked the weapon up from where it was leaning against that green armchair. "This one?"

"Ah!" Rumple smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart." He came over and wrapped his hand around hers on the hilt, blade pointing to the floor, lifting it up to kiss the backs of her fingers. "How does it feel to be holding Lævateinn?"

"What?"

 He couldn't possibly be serious...

"I had the nine keys rounded up some hundred and fifty years ago. I was curious about what sort of weapon was locked away under such unusual conditions, but never really got any use out of it myself." Rumple shrugged, as if it was common for-Well maybe it wasn't common for people to end up with legendary weapons in their possession, but for Rumpelstiltskin? That wasn't too farfetched. "Figured someone would come looking for a magical sword at some point or other. I tossed the keys out afterwards, ugly things, I suppose no one realized it until now..."

Belle looked down to the sword again, and then back up at her husband. Twice. She shook her head fondly, not without exasperation, and stood up on her toes to kiss him. "If it were anyone else telling me that, I wouldn't believe them. Now _why_ couldn't you just tell them you had ? instead of all the...the dramatics."

Rumple grinned, tapping the tip of her nose. "If you're only realizing now that the Dark One has a penchant for the dramatic, sweetheart, I may have overestimated how brilliant you are."

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Well I have to admit it's a little entertaining to lead the hapless hero along before helping them. Not to mention easy. It may please you to know, however, I am just going to give them the sword, mostly free of charge. Asgardian weapons are a bit dangerous to keep in Storybrooke."

Belle giggled, shaking her head once again. "Fine, fine. Let's give the god of thunder the sword so they can leave and we can get back to lunch. I still have a half hour before the owner wants me to get back to work."

"Now what could we possible get done in half an hour, I wonder?" Rumple teased, before putting on his "Dark One Face" and returning to the front.

* * *

**Avengers Tower: Sunday, 0019 hours**

After a few more hours, and a few odd discoveries, the four Avengers left Storybrooke's town line and had Heimdall transport them back.

Bucky had decided to head out, now, and Steve walked him to the door. He always walked him to the door, not exactly like an escort, more like Steve was wanted to be sure he got off alright. He offered, often, to help find a safe place to put down roots, but...that didn't seem right. Not yet. It just...wasn't right, not yet, no. Although it was nice to pretend it could be, to show up at the tower here and watch a baseball game every now and then like they were normal.

Enough of that.

"So...Wonderland is real," Steve said aloud when they were in the foyer. "All the fairytales, apparently Dr. Frankenstein is practicing general medicine...I'm not sure what Natasha's going to write a report on, if she does."

"Well..." Bucky shifted his backpack on his shoulders. "The opening line should be easy enough."

"How's that?"

"You know."

"Know what?"

"Once upon a time-"

"Get out." Steve pointed to the door, grinning widely.

* * *

**Bifrost Bridge: Sunday, 1910 hours**

Thor didn't come back to Avengers Tower with his friends. First, he had to secure Lævateinn in his father's vault in the palace. Also, he promised to tell Heimdall what adventures they'd been up to. First, of course, he had to explain why he went searching for a key and came back with a sword.

"...so the Dark One had Lævateinn in his possession all this time, and they keys are little more than collectibles now."

"Hmm. Interesting," Heimdall hummed, taking his bright coppery eyes off the cosmos for a moment. "So. If it were that easy, what took you so long in getting back?

"Oh. That. Well, you see, first there was the child who mistook Barnes for her father. That was about the same time we had decided to look around for a bit, and then there were these dwarves..."

**Author's Note:**

> Planned ficlets of Avengers-in-Storybrooke at a later date are: The dwarves being offended by the assumption that all dwarves are alike, Thor's visit to Arendelle, and Bucky and Jefferson giving a few people whiplash.
> 
> I'm waiting to write these (and all of my other projects, DAMN IT,) because of reasons explained in full on my Tumblr, but basically I've got a mild case of cubital tunnel syndrome and want to take off for a few months to see if I can get all my limbs straightened out properly. Grr.
> 
> Also: Lævateinn is a magical Norse mythology weapon only mentioned in one poem. It's a sword, (some people thought it was made from the mistletoe that killed Baldr, those people are wrong, but I like the idea of a wooden-handled sword anyway,) hidden in a chest secured by nine locks and guarded by a giantess. It doesn't seem unreasonable to me that Rumple would've acquired it just for the hell of it because that's just what he does, really. :)


End file.
